


The Terror Of the Chained

by IeshaFox



Category: Greek Mythology, Original Work
Genre: Gen, Greek Mythology — Freeform, New story, tie-in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5029867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IeshaFox/pseuds/IeshaFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An evil awakens, and two unlikely people, thought to be useless, petty, and pathetic, must rise to an impossible task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Terror Of the Chained

He struggled, and he strained,  
the chains bonding him to the rock  
chafing his wrist.  
He growled murderously to the  
heavens, to the Gods of both Rome,  
and Greece.  
"Curse you, Zeus!" he  
shouted.  
The sun rose high in the sky,  
a great orb of golden light bathing  
his skin.  
Oh, how he would bring justice  
unto the Gods of Olympus.  
He would destroy them all.  
Then he would be king.  
......  
The box glowed with ethereal energy,  
vibrating violently as spirits of  
evil raced forth into the world.  
"Pandora!" a scolding voice  
boomed. "Do you realize what you  
have just done?!"  
Her hands! Why couldn't she  
feel her hands?  
They were glued to the wooden box,  
the box that her legend would forever be  
tied to.  
She could not respond to Zeus,  
who stood before her. His expression  
betrayed his thunderstruck mood.  
"Z-Zeus, m-my Lord!"  
Pandora squeaked an apology.  
Every evil spirit, every evil deity,  
let loose by a small girl  
holding a box.  
Numbly, her fingers inched  
upward, agonizing in their slowness,  
and closed the lid. Just as she heard  
the faint snap, she caught a  
faint whisper, calling out her name.  
"Pandora." it said. "Do not  
release me."  
The whisper came to the young girl  
from the box itself.  
But, that's impossible! Hadn't  
it just been emptied? Hadn't she  
been told that there was nothing but pure  
evil in that box?  
"Carry me with you, Pandora."  
the voice stated. "For I bring  
hope."  
......  
"Orpheus!"  
"Orpheus!"  
"Orpheus,"  
The calls taunted him, called  
for him to turn.  
"Orpheus!"  
"Orpheus!"  
"Orpheus,"  
They mocked him. They urged  
him to turn around, but the placid  
color of the Underworld stood ahead of  
him. He would not turn, not at all.  
He could not.  
"Persephone," he had  
asked the queen of the UNDERWORLD.  
"Argue my case to him, please!"  
Hades sat, looking down his  
godly nose at him.  
He had to have this done! He just had  
to.  
He had ventured into the Underworld,  
come across the River Styx, through many  
of fields of the dead, and finally into the  
palace of Hades himself.  
There he met with the god of the  
Underworld, and pleaded for his lover  
to be brought back to life.  
"No," Hades declined, shaking  
his head, as if for emphasis.  
So, why was he running from the  
Underworld, being threatened to turn  
about? Because Eurydice, the woman  
he loved so dearly, was behind him.  
But, from behind him, there came no  
footfall, no hint of breathing.  
At first it worried him, but he  
disregarded it, until he neared  
the entrance of the Underworld.  
Then, he could not help himself. He  
turned to look upon the face of the  
dead woman.  
But, she was gone.  
......  
The chains shuddered, and creaked under  
immense strain as the being on the  
rock struggled, pushing, and pulling  
against his bonds in futility. But,  
he had not long to wait before his  
servants arrived, and cut through the  
metal chains.  
It seemed almost too easy, but  
when god-like figure stood for the first  
time in decades, he rubbed his almost  
human wrists.  
"Thank you, servants." he  
said, without meaning. "Now, the world will  
see what a terrible mistake they  
have made in imprisoning me."  
A wicked smile crossed his  
face as he stepped off of the rock,  
and crossed a river, as if it were just  
a morning stroll.  
Oh, the gods would pay. They  
would pay for their actions.  
And he was the fist of justice.

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the beginning, an excerpt if you will.


End file.
